Violet Eyes Chapter 1: A Life for A Life, an avatar fanfic

Chapter 1: A Life for a Life

Five fingers and five toes… the cry of a newborn babe…
conceived in darkness secret by the grace of Eywa… first of its epoch…
born of demon and Na'vi…
The peace-marker to come, the dawn of the eternal peacetime age…

***~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ NEYTIRI ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***

"Ma sa'nok!"

Mo'at jolted out of her trance at her daughter's exclamation. Neytiri had left her place from across their shared fire, the warmth of her hands now seeping into her mother's chilled shoulders.

"It was that same vision again, wasn't it? The prophecy. The one that has been troubling you?" Neytiri's cool green eyes met her mother's, seeking a response, hoping for even a mere shred more of clarity than they had been afforded so far. "Is it Lo'ak?"

Mo'at sighed, shaking her head, "The Great Mother has not shown me any more than what she already has. All I know is that this peace-marker, this child, has not yet come to pass. It is a babe not born yet. It is not Lo'ak's path."

Neytiri sat back on her haunches, chewing her lip and mulling over her mother's words. The Long War had brought about a time of infertility among the Na'vi. No babies had been born in many years. It was not an unwelcome effect at the time. After all, who would want to bring a child into a world consumed by chaos? However, the Long War had ended moons ago and none in the clan had been blessed with a babe since.

The end of the Long War had been celebrated, the great defeat of the Sky Demons coming after many years of pain, destruction, death and sorrow. Despite this victory, true peace still eluded the Na'vi.

The Na'vi way was amity, respect, family and gratitude, all unified by the love they shared for their Great Mother, Eywa. Their homewas now free of the Sky Demons, but the years of violence and devastation had awakened an ugly malice amongst the Na'vi.

Aside from the prevalent childlessness, the war had ignited a thirst for blood, power and depravity in some. This ugliness skulked its way like a toxic tendril through the clans infecting some individuals like a moral pestilence. As a result, the clan was unsettled; there was disagreement within the clan, division within families and bloodshed between Na'vi.

Mo'at's recurring vision told of a prophesied child to be born who would be the peace-marker, signalling the start of the great age of true, eternal peace.

A child of demon and Na'vi… Neytiri pondered what it could mean. Her family was the only one of mixed heritage in existence. She and Jake had not conceived again since the birth of their youngest, Tuktirey. They had taken it as a sign from Eywa that their soaia (family) was complete. They were not too old yet, but the idea of being blessed with another child now after so long seemed absurd.

"Perhaps a child of Lo'ak's then." Neytiri offered, "He and Tsireya are mated before Eywa now. Perhaps Eywa will grant us this peace-marker through them."

Mo'at blinked weary eyes at her daughter, "We must continue to pray to the Great Mother for clarity. All things will happen in her time. They cannot be forced."

Neytiri let out an exasperated hiss, which earned her another sigh from Mo'at. Neytiri rose to full height, pacing around the dying embers of the fire. Her tail weaved back and forth behind her, "The people are desperate for peace! The Sky Demons have been defeated but look at what corruption now lives amongst us like a disease."

Mo'at inhaled and resignedly waved Neytiri away, beginning to remove her headpiece and elaborate adornments that denoted her role as tsahìk, "I am tired, daughter, and I must rest now. Goodnight, ma'ite."

Neytiri knew a dismissal when she saw one. With a dip of her head, she bid her mother goodnight and padded out of the alcove. She willed the pit of uneasiness bubbling in her gut down to a simmer as she gazed up at their kelutral, their new Hometree. Lifting her chin, she eyed the Sully family alcove further up which she shared with Jake, Neteyam, Spider and Tuk. No Lo'ak and no Kiri… A sharp pang flitted through her gut and she gritted her teeth at the thought of her lost daughter.

Neytiri took a deep breath to steady herself, filling her lungs with the sweet crispness of the lush woodland air. Focusing her energy on the feel of the lithe strength in her limbs, she began to climb the inner spiral of kelutral.

After the Long War, Lo'ak had mated Tsireya and the pair had chosen to call Awa'atlu their home, remaining with Tsireya's ancestral Metkayina clan on the reefs.

Kiri's fate was not so fortunate. It had been Kiri who saved them all in the end; Kiri who gave everything and gave her life to end the war.

That first battle all those years ago between the Metkayina clan and Quaritch's elite recombinant team of avatars had only been the beginning. Though that battle culminated with her entire family escaping the sinking SeaDragon with their lives, it was a small and short-lived victory. Quaritch had survived too. Neytiri did not bother to stifle the words about Quaritch that left her lips in a venomous string as she continued her climb to the family's alcove.

Around the time of the first battle, the humans' mother planet, Earth, died and was no longer able to sustain life. The years that followed saw the Sky Demons regroup in the numbers they had left and return in a migration, all intent on terraforming the Na'vi's beloved Eywa'eveng (Pandora)to be their new home.

Na'vi clans and tribes banded together and fought; brothers and sisters unified in the single purpose of driving the demons from their land. But the Sky Demons brought carnage and casualty like never before to everything they touched. The balance of life was destroyed.

Kiri had found her truth in Eywa and accepted her fate. She had no father. Eywa had chosen Kiri as a conduit, conceived in Grace's womb and incarnated as Na'vi so that she would one day be the saviour to all Na'vi. Through Kiri, Eywa restored the balance of life. Eywa fought pestilence with pestilence, creating a sickness that Kiri fed to the waters of Pandora.

All who held faith in Eywa came to no harm. The Sky Demons were struck down and killed by the sickness in the water like a hallowed plague that razed across the land like a holy, cleansing fire. It had been six moons since then, since Kiri had become one with Eywa.

Neytiri reached her family alcove, a small smile playing across her lips in greeting as she locked eyes with her oldest son, "Tìyawn (beloved), Neteyam."

Neteyam rose to his feet and gently pressed his forehead to hers, greeting his mother, "Ma sa'nok." It was not lost on Neytiri that her son now had to tilt his head much lower than she remembered to reach her. He was as tall as his father (slightly taller actually, not that Jake would ever admit it), and just as broad in the chest and shoulders. He had grown well.

"Can't sleep?" Neytiri asked, caressing her son's cheek before her hand drifted to his forehead, her thumb trying to smooth out the wrinkle that had formed between his eyes, "You frown too much."

Neteyam gave a quiet laugh and pulled away from his mother's reach, pointing to his face, "It's my thinking face. It means there's clever stuff happening up here."

Neytiri chortled quietly and her heart warmed as she looked at her oldest son, her firstborn. Dutiful, skilful, wise beyond his years and strong of heart. He would make a fine clan chief when his time came. Yet the Long War had poached the last part of his youth from him. In his duty to his people and to his father, Neteyam had missed the young adult years of bonding with others of his own age, forming lifelong friendships and pursuing other more passionate relationships. Neytiri often wondered if her son was lonely.

Wise though Neteyam was, it was a wisdom borne from years of conflict. It was a wisdom that no mother would wish upon her child, given a choice. Even now, Neteyam spent much of his time with his father, tending to what the clan needed and learning what it meant to be chief.

"You just look so grave, when you frown." Neytiri admonished.

As if hearing its name, said frown returned to Neteyam's face, "There was another incident today with Spider. Rutxao and his friends cornered him after a hunt. There was a serious scuffle. Dad and Tarsem have dealt with them."

Neytiri scowled and bared her fangs in a snarl. She might not have welcomed Spider at first, but she had made mistakes and atoned for them. Spider was family. He had fought with the Sully family alongside the Na'vi in the Long War. He had grown up alongside her children and despite his original human form, he had always been Na'vi in spirit and heart. Norm Spellman and Max Patel had engineered an avatar body for Spider using his DNA partway through the Long War and, by the will of Eywa, his soul was successfully transferred into his new body.

"Is Spider alright?" Concern coloured Neytiri's tone despite her stern expression.

Neteyam gave a brisk nod and smirked, "He's a Sully, he can hold his own even if he did walk out of it with some decent cuts and bruises."

"Get some sleep, my son." Neytiri said, bidding her son goodnight. She headed deeper into their alcove, past Tuk and Spider's sleeping forms in their hammocks. It had been a late night of prayer and meditation with Mo'at. Most of clan would already be asleep.

Jake too was asleep in their shared hammock. As quietly and light-footedly as she could, Neytiri climbed in next to her mate whose arms instinctively parted to receive her into his embrace, even in sleep. She pressed a chaste kiss to his lips and curled against him with her back to his chest, listening to the steady thud of his heartbeat.

The Long War had understandably stirred up a great hatred for the Sky Demons and anything associated with them. This by default also permeated some of the clan's thoughts and opinions of their family.

The family had returned to the Omatikaya clan at the end of the war. Tarsem, who had been named Olo'eyktan when Jake had first departed, had readily relinquished his position despite her mate's vehement protests. Tarsem had spoken before the clan, "I only held the mantle in your absence, brother. The great Toruk Makto has returned and will lead the Omatikaya people once more!"

The clan had found a new Hometree deep in the woodlands. The High Camp in the Hallelujah Mountains had proven unsuitable during the Long War as one of the main bases for Na'vi operations. Not all Na'vi flew ikran and not all Na'vi were a fan of heights. The new Hometree was much bigger than the first and served well to accommodate the many clans who had united in battle.

However, not everyone welcomed them back with open arms. Nothing was voiced aloud at the time; nobody openly disputed the return of Jake Sully and his family. Nobody revolted against his reinstatement as clan leader.

Silence, however, speaks louder than words.

The distrust was evident in the eyes of those whose souls were still agonised from the turmoil left by the Sky Demons. The doubt plain in the absence of affirmation every time a decision was settled. An insurgence was festering silently in the underbelly of the clan and fuelled by the moral bloodthirst that had begun its taint during the war, Mo'at's prophecy of the peace-marker could not come soon enough…

***~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ NETEYAM ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***

Hushed whispers and stifled laughter bubbled through the Sully family alcove. Neteyam watched through half-lidded eyes as his parents returned from one of their 'date nights'. A mischievous grin plastered across his father's face as he darted forward to deliver a swift, but gentle tug to the tip of his mother's tail, eliciting another stifled giggle from her as she beamed back at him.

"Hush Jake, stop it. Everyone is sleeping." Neytiri chastised, taking Jake's hand and leading him to their shared hammock.

A corner of Neteyam's mouth curved upward as he felt happiness at the bond his parents shared. All these years, from their star-crossed beginning, through the challenge of raising five children and the Long War, their love held strong. It was the kind of bond that Neteyam hoped to be blessed with one day, profound in love and fervent in partnership.

Would he have that with Penina? The question remained unanswered.

Penina was Tarsem's oldest daughter. They had been betrothed shortly after Neteyam and his family had returned to Hometree. Tarsem had proposed the match, decreeing it was a festive way to celebrate the end of the Long War with a strong betrothal between two families with spiritual and leadership bloodlines.

He had known Penina from childhood. They were not far in age and had been childhood playmates. Penina had been a respected hunter and warrior too and they had fought alongside each other in the final battle of the Long War before the conclusion of the hallowed plague. Familiar and friendly with one another and both possessing a strong sense of duty, neither had opposed the betrothal. They would be Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk like their ancestors before them.

Neteyam tossed in his hammock, turning his attention back to falling asleep. His skin itched and prickled all over in the humid heat. It was the warm season and sleep was hard enough to come upon without the restless dreams he seemed to be experiencing more and more often when he did find sleep.

Water… Always water… a tranquil stream, a fast-flowing river surging and plummeting over falls… a helpless baby thrown into rapids… a beautiful female bathing in a river grove…

If it was not the nightmare of the helpless babe being thrown in the rapids to drown, it was the erotic fantasy of the faceless female bathing in the grove. Judging by the burning constriction in his loincloth, no points were being awarded for guessing which dream he was being plagued with tonight.

Neteyam balled his fists and pressed them against his brows, his face contorting in an expression of silent frustration. He was going to have to do something about it.

He hated nights like this. He was not ashamed of his body's response; there was nothing shameful about it. He was a red-blooded male and Na'vi were an impassioned people. Physical affection and touch-privileges were freely exchanged between consenting individuals. Sex was a means of bonding within mated pair-bonds as well as outside of them. Sharing touch-privileges with someone did not necessarily lead to a mating nor did it mean that you were exclusively courting each other unless agreed to beforehand.

Sex also did not lead to babies unless it was within the bounds of a mated pair-bond - Neteyam had learned that this was not the case with humans when he was eavesdropping one time on a conversation his parents were having once about something his father referred to as 'the talk'.

Rampant and unabashed promiscuity, however, was frowned upon. Not that Spider seemed to worry about that. Spider was popular with the females and those who dallied with him appeared gratified enough. Being the chief's son and future clan leader meant that one had to be discreet and discerning in such matters. Neteyam was often on the receiving end of some playful ribbing from Spider on the topic, as a result. Neteyam was not about to start his own harem of young females, but he had kissed a few and ventured a bit further with one or two, Penina included.

Soundlessly, Neteyam moved out of his hammock and through the alcove's main archway, nimbly descending Hometree's spiral centre as he headed for the ground in search of privacy. The ability to move in silence was a very transferrable skill he had acquired from being one of the clan's best hunters. There were many coppices and groves in the surrounding woodlands that couples, particularly young adults, sought out to play and share touch-privileges in.

Finding a free thicket, he ensconced himself by a large tree and loosened his loincloth enough that he could free his cock. He exhaled with the relief from the restriction of the material and palmed himself lightly. He thought of Penina and the times they had played together. The furthest they had explored was heavy petting, but they had shared enough experiences now that both knew what each other liked, which made for mutual satisfaction all round.

However, the recollection of Penina was not working now, which is why he hated nights like this.

It was not that Penina was not beautiful, she was, with large round eyes and full lips that tempted most males to fantasise of sipping from them. Her form was pleasing too, slim, smooth and supple. But she was not the female bathing in the grove…

Neteyam was tiring of this repeated delusion. He had no clue who she even was… Just a figment of his restless mind. He just wanted to be able to get some sleep. Wrapping his fist around himself, he set a steady rhythm of strokes and surrendered to it.

He watched her from behind a warbonnet fern, she had waded in to her thighs and was rinsing her un-braided hair under the gentle cascades from the hill above… The water smoothed down her slender back of cerulean and sapphire stripes, trailing over a pert bottom, her tail waving slowly over the surface of river… The little streams of water continued to make sensual paths down her back and he particularly enjoyed the inward dip of her waist and the flare of a hip…

Neteyam braced his left hand against the bark of the tree as the pleasure built and coursed through him. His hips had joined his hand now, raptly pumping his length in and out of his tight fist with each stroke. His breath was coming faster now, panting, his mouth ajar as his body took in the air it needed, speeding towards an inevitable peak.

The female turned to face him, still unaware of her voyeur… The cool water sluiced off her shoulders, trailing in rivulets down her front… past the tantalising swell of her breasts, trickling off the tips of her nipples…

A fiery heat ignited at the base of Neteyam's spine before it exploded in sparks, racing up his spine and down to the flexing tip of his tail. His back arched and his abdominal muscles contracted as his orgasm consumed him, a pleasure-filled grimace moulding its way across his face. His seed spilled in viscous spurts, painting his fist and the bark of the tree with lashings of it.

His heart continued to pound in his ears as his breathing became less erratic. Clarity and reality washed over him in the next moment and Neteyam shook his head at what he had just done. It had quieted the susurrations of his mind for now though, which was good enough for him to find sleep.

Cleaning up with some leaves and surrounding dew, Neteyam made his way back to Hometree.

There was an important expedition starting in the morning. A handful of warriors, including himself, were heading out to the perimeter of the Sky Demons' barren Bridgehead base to scout the area and filch any useful supplies. It would be the closest anyone had been to Bridgehead since the end of the war.

Neteyam needed his mind to be clear. It would be a gruelling endeavour not just physically, but emotionally too. So much had been taken from him in the Long War and seeing Bridgehead was going to turn everything on its head.

***~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ RIA ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***

She had lost count. Lost count of how many day and night cycles it had been since the last person succumbed to the plague; since she had spoken to someone; since she had been left on her own. Ria raked her fingers through her unruly hair, trying and failing to make it lie flat against the sides of her head. Her hair felt tacky from the salt and her fingers caught in places, courtesy of washing in seawater.

By all accounts she should be dead.

The immune response on Pandora had reached its pinnacle many months ago with the contamination of the moon's waters. The disease struck and infected all the recombinant avatars and humans, producing symptoms like a deathly cholera, leading to delirium and eventual death by terminal dehydration. By some divine power, the native flora and fauna of Pandora remained unaffected, living and thriving as usual with no ill effects. If Ria was unsure before about Eywa, the Great Mother, she certainly was not now. There was some higher power out there.

For a few weeks, the scientists and medical researchers scurried to find a vaccine and a cure. Efforts soon became futile as people started dropping dead like flies. No amount of de-salination and sterilisation of the water eradicated the disease to make it safe for drinking.

Water, water everywhere, nor any drop to drink… it certainly gave renewed meaning to Coleridge's well-known poem.

The plague purged all of Bridgehead like a scourge and it left no one alive in its wake. Except Ria.

Confusion had been her constant companion since day one. Waking in her Recombinant avatar body after a Soul Drive transfer, watching a playback of her human counterpart relaying what her 'job' was and that she was now the blue alien version of Ria Brooks, ex-Mercenary and Xenolinguist. She had been selected for Project Phoenix due to her xenolinguistic capabilities, their intention for her to be an extra hired gun with the cherry on top of being able to speak basic Na'vi.

Everything had felt wrong. The brainwashed-ness of the other Recoms was strange to her. They took to their new bodies like ducks to water, while Ria sat there contemplating her existence wondering who the fuck she even was? Did a transfer of someone's memories and identity through an artificial process automatically make you that person? She assumed that her soul drive transfer had malfunctioned. It had been patchy, which must be why she felt like there were missing and jumbled pieces in the jigsaw that supposedly made up who she was.

She even looked different… She stood a few inches shorter than the average female avatar and her eyes were not the expected shade of yellow-green either…

The single truth she had always been doubtless about though, which had warred with the rest of her all through the years battle, was that she never signed up to kill innocent people.

Ria swung herself out of the bunk-bed she had been lying in. Alright, 07:00, it's moving day Brooks. Time to leave the Kill Zone.

She had called this military bunker home-base since the plague. It was portable with six wheels and an engine. It had power but no water. Fuck if she knew where the power came from… She was not techy in any sense. The bunker had panels on it, presumably feeding and getting its energy from something in the environment around it.

Nothing breached the Kill Zone of Bridgehead, the 3.2km wide strip of bare, dead earth between the city wall and the native tree line. Pandora's fauna avoided it like an anathema upon the land. She had survived off the provisions left at Bridgehead for as long as she could, but she was clean out now. Ria had to move out of the Kill Zone and brave Pandora's forest if she wanted to stay alive. Did she want to stay alive? The first few months alone had been torment… Too desolate to live, yet too gutless to end things yourself…

Gritting her teeth, Ria persevered with her plan. Bridgehead held nothing for her now except memories of death and disorientation. She might be walking straight into death's trap, but when you were stuck between a rock and a hard place, the only thing you could do was keeping moving up.

***~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ NETEYAM ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***

It was a long ride on ikran to the Sky Demons' base. Almost half a day's flight and far too much time than Neteyam liked to be alone with his thoughts. Five of them had set out at daybreak to scout the Bridgehead perimeter.

The 'RDA'; that was what the humans were called, like a clan name of some sort. They were responsible for so many lives lost; all the Great Mother's creatures and plants, as well as countless Na'vi. And Kiri, his sweet sister.

Neteyam blinked, his eyes watering. The wind whipped around him, his dreadlocked braids fluttering behind him in the gust. He shifted the visor down from his forehead to shield his eyes from the harsh daylight. There was tell-tale tightening in his chest as a sob attempted to free itself from his throat. If anyone had asked, he would have blamed his watering eyes on the wind and harsh light, but he was not about to lie to himself.

He missed his sister. He often visited the Tree of Voices, seeking Kiri out. He did not always find her, but the voices of his ancestors and the presence of the Great Mother did afford him some peace after his visits.

Several whoops and calls sounded as Jake signalled to him, Spider, Rutxao and Wa'Onong that they approached their destination. Great Mother, the stench… It was like death and decay encompassed.

The acrimony of it all bubbled in his gut like an acid of hatred. His lips curled in a snarl. Hate was not strong enough a word to describe what he felt towards the RDA.

***~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ RIA ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***

Would wonders never cease?

Ria clutched the assault rifle to her as she moved warily through the lush flora.

She had spent several hours in her bunker upon arrival, just observing her surroundings through the heavily reinforced windows. She had then hyperventilated for 10 minutes behind the bunker's closed door before mustering up enough courage to make her exit. She was convinced she would be dead in minutes.

Yet here she was almost an hour later, alive and very much kicking. Ria had counted 8 prolemuris in a troop as they had swung past her, the many vines and leaves rustling above her in a rippling display of flora.

A herd of sturmbeest grazed in the distance, a couple of mothers raising their heads at the sight of her and eyeing her guardedly. They kept their young close to them, but made no move of charging towards Ria or moving away either.

The lapping swish of running water caught Ria's attention and she swallowed, her dry mouth making itself known and reminding her of how parched she was. Carefully putting her assault rifle down, she crouched by the small stream and immersed her cupped hands into the cool water. She raised her hands to her mouth and drank. She let out a soft groan of satisfaction.

She immediately startled herself to attention when she realised how her groan had echoed in the now very quiet surrounding. Ria whipped her head about, no longer seeing the sturmbeest herd or hearing the babbling calls of the prolemuris overhead. Shit.

A flash of blue from Ria's right, too quick for her to reach her weapon, knocked her flat on her back. Hands gripped her throat as the feral face of a male Na'vi native loomed over her, teeth bared, a scar cutting across one of his eyes from forehead to cheek. Panic and adrenalin kicked in and she punched and kicked out with her limbs attempting to break free. Months and months of surviving on rations without daily military drills had weakened her and her opponent was too strong.

"Vrrtep tawtute!" The curse spat from his lips in his native tongue, but Ria understood it fine, demon sky-person.

The male landed a brutal punch to her face next and Ria saw stars, her vision patching in and out as the pain of the blow reverberated through her skull. Her limbs felt heavy as she struggled to hold on to consciousness. She vaguely registered her wrists being restrained above her head as her captor continued to speak in rapid bursts of Na'vi.

This is it. This is how I go. It had been inevitable really and she felt a strange sense of reprieve. Maybe now she would be able to leave behind the turmoil and rest in silence.

"Demon female, I will wring the life from your neck… but I will make you suffer first."

Ria's consciousness was slowly returning, the pain in her head now an ebbing throb. There was the sound of a dagger being unsheathed and then the harsh scratch of fabric being torn as her pants were sliced and pulled from her legs.

"I have an itch that you will scratch nicely for me." Hot breath next to her ear followed by a slow inhale against her skin where her jaw met her neck.

Ria's eyes flew open as terror flooded her at her captor's words. His heavy body covered hers as she struggled against her restraints. Her thighs were pried apart to make room for her assailant's hips… She welcomed death but this, not this…

A piercing scream tore from her throat, heavily accented Na'vi leaving her lips in a desperate string, "Stop! No, please! Kill me! Kill me!"

Her captor jerked back in surprise at her speech in his native tongue, but before he could respond, more movement sounded in the background. Two more males came charging through the underbrush, daggers in hand, knees bent and feet planted wide in a battle stance.

A flurry of tense Na'vi followed, too fast for Ria to keep up with. What keywords she could pick out indicated they were shocked to find her and were deliberating their next point of action.

Her captor was hauled off her and she instinctively brought her knees to her chest, curling in foetal position on her side, her tail wrapped tight over her bare thighs.

One of the other males approached and crouched down, keeping Ria pinned with a knee on her hip and a hand on her tied wrists, "Brooks?!"

Ria gasped at the mention of her name, turning wide eyes up at the Na'vi before her.

"Holy shit, it is you!" The second male exclaimed in English, barking out an incredulous laugh followed by a grin she recognised from years ago in a face that had not been a striated blue.

"S-Spider?" Ria stammered.

Her captor, whose name was Rutxao, hissed and spat in the background, "You know this demon? We should kill her! She should not be alive!"

"No, Rutxao! You follow my command. No decision has been made." The third male barked. He paced closer, dagger still in hand, his eyes narrowed and nostrils flaring.

"Easy now, don't make any sudden moves." Spider remarked quietly, slowly easing off Ria's curled form and coaxing her to her feet, "Neteyam, you remember Brooks?"

Ria's heart still thundered in her chest, but with the panic and adrenalin receding, her breathing was steadying and her heartrate slowing. Now that her instincts were not screaming at her to keep her eyes shut, she took her time to observe.

She watched as the third male circled, stalking her and Spider as his eyes surveyed her form. He was big, Ria noted, taller than Spider and Rutxao. Leather-hide calf guards decorated his lower legs, lean thighs and narrow hips flaring out to a well-muscled torso and chest. Arm bands circled his biceps and his head was shaven on the sides, leaving a thick cluster of beaded locks trailing around the central braid of his queue.

Ria's gaze finally stopped at his face, almost a replica of his father's if not for the eyes and chin of his mother. Good God, he had grown… She remembered his face, years ago in a time of battle at sea. It had been softer then, framed by youth and lacking the squareness it now possessed. He had barely been taller than her then. Now he towered over her.

She had not known his name then either…

Neteyam. His name is Neteyam.

***~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ NETEYAM ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***

Neteyam stalked around the female they had found. Though she was naked from the waist down, he took no notice of that, his eyes zeroing in on the dark green piece of fabric she wore around her torso with the symbols 'RDA' on the front.

Part of him was astounded that she was alive and the other part of him seethed at what she was and what she represented.

Closing the space between them further, he sniffed the air around her. Earthy, clean, without that artificial odour that many humans carried… no hint of sickness…

"Neteyam, you remember Brooks?" Spider queried, maintaining a good grip on one of the female's elbows to stop any attempt of escape.

Neteyam lifted his gaze to the female's own; green-gold clashed with striking violet. Yes, he remembered those violet eyes, so unusual and unlike anything he had seen before. Even the years that had passed between had not made him forget.

Rutxao was still cursing vehemently in the background, demanding the end of the female's life.

Spider snarled, the whites of his fangs on display, "Shut up Rutxao! You weren't exactly ending her demon life when we found you."

"That's rich coming from a flirt like you, alien-boy."

"I don't take them if they're unwilling, you moron!"

"Enough!" Neteyam roared, their incessant bickering was getting on his nerves and he needed to make a decision.

Neteyam lowered his face to hers, lips curled in a snarl, "I should kill you." The English words were stilted as he spoke, "But I will not. A life for a life."

He turned away from her to call it in, fingers tapping the comm-link around his neck, "Sir, we've found one. She's alive."

***~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ CHAPTER END ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***